


Don't think I'm happy to see you

by ilili



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Past Amelie/Lena (Pre Widowmaker)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilili/pseuds/ilili
Summary: Tracer falls into Widowmakers trap, and Lena has a long overdue chat with Amelie





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was gonna be smut but then i made it angsty and didnt even include any sexy parts. whoops!

"Mhhmhm... You really are pathetic when you struggle, aren't you..?" came her lilting, french-accented voice from above her. 

Lena's face was pressed against the cold tile floor by Widowmaker's sharp-heeled boot. She'd been careless, ran into an obvious trap laid out by the assassin, and now she was paying the price; tied up by a heartless killer in the kitchen of some long-abandoned apartment, utterly alone but for her captor and whatever pests had taken residence after all the people had left.

It had happened quickly, as things were wont to as Tracer, but usually she was the one in control; she hadn't expected to be so thoroughly outsmarted by her enemy. She'd been pursuing her from rooftop to rooftop, ducking and weaving into, above, and around each building until they reached the unpopulated parts of town. The buildings here had been evacuated during the omnic crisis, never resettled; the perfect place to spring a trap.

Widowmaker had lept in through the window of an apartment 2 stories down. Lena had followed, greeted by the now-familiar popping sound of a detonating spider-mine. She'd recalled, but to a point mid-air where she'd been unable to adjust her trajectory. Those few seconds of helplessness were all Widow had needed to catch her prey.

The second time she'd crashed through the window, a web was there to catch her.

Bound tight in the spiders web, and with no charges left in her chronal accelerator to escape with, she was at the mercy of the cold-blooded assassin.

"How 'bout a deal, yah? I'll stop struggling if you take your filthy boots off of my face." she protested. She'd been captured before, and by scarier people than Widowmaker; she found it was always best to keep a cavalier attitude about the whole thing. 

Or at least, she thought so, until her captor's boot pressed down even harder against her skull, her heel almost certainly drawing some blood from where it dug into her jaw. 

"Non Cherie, I prefer to keep my prey... under heel, as it were." was her response, cool as ice.

Lena just grunted to show she understood, and Widowmaker eased off a bit, apparently satisfied with her complaisance. 

She took a moment to collect her thoughts as Widow levied her rifle against her temple, trying to think of what she could say to buy herself more time; she hadn't checked in in a while, no doubt Winston or Mercy or some other agent would notice her absence, send out a team to find her and rescue her. She just had to keep Widowmaker talking long enough to make that happen.

Would be easy too, if i were talking to anyone but the spectacular Spider-Woman here. she thought.

She heard the telltale *click* of a pulse cartridge sliding into the rifle chamber. If she were going to talk her way out of this, she needed to do it now. 

"...So, the assassin life agree with you then? You seem to be keeping fit at least." 

Kill 'em with kindness, I suppose! she thought, reeling at her own stupidity. 

No response. But she also wasn't dead yet. She had to keep talking. 

"Some of your mates could take a few pointers from you, runnin' around in those dowdy combat fatigues while you get to prance about in that saucy little catsuit. Or I guess it's a spider suit?"

More silence. She couldn't turn her head to see Widows face either. She was flying blind, though that suited her just fine; she did her best work when she was on the spot anyway.

 

"Love? You there?" Lena asked.

"...Do you never cease with your childishness, girl?" was her answer, followed by the soft unwinding sound of her rifle. She was going to kill her. Not now, anyway.

She laughed. "Dunno what you're talkin' about, love. I'm always serious when I'm at work."

A small tsk and a vexed sigh from her captor as she lifted her boot from her face. 

Lena would have been relieved for it too, if she hadn't instead drove a swift kick to her stomach, stunning her before flipping her onto her back with her foot. 

She hadn't been able to tell before when they'd been chasing each other, but Widowmaker was...

Bang-on gorgeous! she thought, quickly realizing just how wrong that was and coming back to her senses.

With no one holding her down now, she scrambled backwards until her back hit a wall and leaned against it. Widowmaker made no attempt to stop her, and she wondered if it was because she didn't want to kill her, or if she simply didn't consider her a threat anymore. Either way, Lena was grateful for the chance to shift from her uncomfortable position on the ground.

"So, are you not plannin' to kill me or wh-"

"Cease your idiotic rambling, fool." she barked, pacing the kitchen floor. "I haven't decided what to do with you yet..."

"I Didn't know you Talon folks had options." jeered Lena.

"We don't." she replied, with a grim finality that sent a chill down her spine.

"...I'm merely deciding when and how it would be best to dispose of you." she continued. "Perhaps I should draw it out slowly... Make an example of you to your Overwatch compatriots."

Though it was hard to detect through Widowmaker's usual detached tone of speech, Lena could hear a twinge of contempt in the way her enemy said the name "Overwatch." She could have been imagining it, but if it meant what thought it meant...

 

"...A-Amelie..?" 

Immediately her captor turned to glare at her with barely-concealed rage. Lena worried she may have just cost herself her life.

Though her looks betrayed her emotions, Widow spoke as coolly as ever. "Amelie LaCroix is dead. Do not mention her name to me as though it means anything." 

So it really was her.

Her hair was longer now, her eyes an unnatural yellow color, her skin pale blue from what seemed to be a lack of circulation, but there was no doubt in her mind now; This was Amelie LaCroix, in the flesh. 

Her Amelie. 

"So this whole time... Since that night with the Shambali... I've been chasing..?"

"You have been chasing The Widowmaker. And now you are here, caught in my trap, waiting patiently to die like the foolish little girl you are." she interrupted. 

Lena's mind was racing a mile a minute, too many thoughts at once, too many questions with no answers to be found.

They sat in silence for a moment, both trying to figure out what to say next, until

"...I do remember you. The Oxton girl. You had a few little trysts with LaCroix, a married woman."

Lena couldn't think of a response, so Widow continued

"...You were in love with her. She knew about it, of course. You're boorish and transparent and you wear your foolish little heart on your sleeve." 

At this, Widowmaker frowned. She seemed to be thinking to herself, as though she'd just remembered something she didn't know how to make sense of.

A pause, and then

"...Regardless, her affection for you is irrelevant now. I won't let the feelings of a dead woman stop me from finishing off my prey." she loaded her rifle for the last time, levying it against Lena once more. 

"Au Revoir, Cherie."

 

Everything happens in a flash.

The beep of her chronal accelerator, finally recharged. The click of the rifle trigger and the bang of the pulse bullet leaving the barrel. The whir of Lena's blink, placing her gently in the spot she'd been forced to lie in before Amelie had let her go, safely out of harm's way. 

Amelie curses in french, tries to track her target again, but Lena's already on the other side of the apartment halfway out the window. She turns to face her one last time. Her mouth curls into a sad smile, sending the other woman into a rage. She unloads an entire clip in her direction to no avail, then curses again for letting her emotions, the emotions she shouldn't feel anymore, get the better of her. 

Lena has already blinked behind her. Amelie mentally calculates her odds of victory while practically unarmed vs. Tracer's twin pistols; she'd been foolish to not have taken them away before, and now she may die because of her mistake.

Amelie readies herself for an attack from behind, but nothing comes.

Instead, she feels Lena's arms wrap around her from behind, her face pressed against her back. She's completely stunned.

"When I was displaced I was so afraid (hic) I'd never see you again," she sniffed, further adding to Amelie's discomfort and confusion. "-and then I came back (hic) and everyone said you'd been taken by talon! We all thought you died, Amelie..!"

"LaCroix did die-"

"I know that's what you think, love, and maybe it's true..!" she continued, barreling forward through her tears. "Maybe you can never be the same again, but that doesn't mean nothing from before they made you like this matters!" 

"You just want your little girlfriend back."

Amelie felt a peculiar wetness down her cheeks, her vision starting to blur.

She was crying.

Something was seriously wrong.

And like a freight train with no brakes, Lena continued. 

"I Do! I want you back, more than anything! So please, stop doing this! Come with me!"

 

As if on queue, the sound of Overwatch VTOL's came into focus; they were here for Lena.

Amelie had been a fool. She'd let her keep talking, let her stall for time long enough for backup to arrive. If she didn't escape now she'd be captured, or worse. Every fiber of her being screamed to break free of the girl's embrace and escape with what little time she had left.

And yet an inexplicable feeling of yearning consumed her. 

Everything about this situation was wrong. Her target wasn't dead, she was holding her, confessing all her innermost feelings to her as if they meant something. She had to leave, now, or she would be captured by Overwatch, put to trial for her crimes, most likely killed. But she wanted to stay. She wanted to see how things would go.

 

Instead, she wrestled herself free of Tracer's grasp, grabbed her rifle, and made for the window. With one deft flick of her wrist, she secured a grapple point on a building on the other side of the street, ready for her to make her escape.  
She only looked back once. The other woman was rooted in place where she'd left her, stunned shock on her face and tears in her eyes. 

Lena tried to call out for her one last time, but she was already gone before she could hear it.

 

* * *

 

 

The flight back to Gibraltar was mostly silent but for the paramedic attending to Lena's wounds. She watched the sunrise over the countryside from the large bay door window, and wondered if Amelie was granted the same luxuries as an agent of Talon.   
She hoped, wherever she was now, she could still see the sunrise and feel hope.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think that amelie still has all her memories of being ... well, amelie. and she copes with it by dissociating from that identity and choosing to be Widowmaker instead. 
> 
> also in my headcanon amelie actually does have all her emotions, but theyre dulled (kinda. talon can remotely tamper with the chemicals in her brain but not so much that they can make it so that she has no emotions. on top of that she probably also has ptsd/depression and so would just in general not know how to handle.. feelings)


End file.
